


i call shotgun

by Chokingonholywater



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Squip, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Shotgunning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 03:54:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14180010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chokingonholywater/pseuds/Chokingonholywater
Summary: Jeremy is notoriously bad at smoking weed, a fact that Michael always loves to make fun of him for. It always leads to coughing fits and vague feelings of choking, until they come up with a better way of doing things.





	i call shotgun

The day that things changed, it wasn't something Jeremy expected. There was nothing in the air that suggested that afternoon would be different - the only thing hanging in the air was the scent of weed. The posters on the walls of Michael's basement were the same as they'd always been, the soft light from his lava lamp and strands of Christmas lights that permanently adorned his walls casting familiar rainbow shades around the room.

Jeremy was laying on his beanbag, staring up at the ceiling. The plastic stars on the ceiling, which had been there since the boys were eleven, stared back at him. His lungs burned vaguely from his earlier failure to take a drag, resulting in him coughing for about two minutes nonstop.

After that, he'd just let Michael keep it. Instead, he'd deigned to just lay comfortably on the beanbag chair. He glanced at Michael out the corner of his eye - he was laying on the beanbag next to him, looking lazy and carefree. His hair was mussed, but Jeremy liked it. He looked relaxed in a way that he didn't look around anyone else. That made Jeremy feel special, that this small piece of Michael, the part that was totally relaxed, belonged to Jeremy and Jeremy alone.

He tried to ignore the strange, warm feeling in his chest, but it weighed on him. He was always pushing the feelings away, because he was frankly scared that if he acknowledged them, they'd grow to a weight to heavy for him to hold in. He couldn't afford to put that kind of strain on his friendship with Michael, even if sometimes he wondered what would happen if he did push.

Maybe it was the aura of relaxation in the basement, or the vague blurry feeling that the weed produced, but suddenly, Jeremy really wanted to try. He wouldn't do anything crazy, and besides - he was high. Anything he did could be excused by being high, even if he barely was. He pondered what he could do, what little way he could push that wouldn't be too risky.

"What if we tried shotgunning?" Jeremy blurted suddenly.

The words were out of his mouth before he even knew what he was saying, and his eyes flew wide open when he realized what he'd done.

He'd basically just asked Michael to kiss him, or the weed equivalent of kissing at least, and he wanted nothing more in that moment than for the floor to swallow him whole. He could already feel the heat rising in his face, the tightness of a mistake growing in his chest. He'd wanted to push, or he'd thought he had, but he wished that he hadn't said anything at all. He was getting ready to try to backpedal his way out of it when suddenly —

"Holy shit! Yeah, dude," Michael said, eyes wide. "How did I never think of that?"

And just like that, the tension was gone.

"I - I dunno," Jeremy laughed nervously. Even though he'd coughed up half of his lungs earlier, he had managed to inhale some of the smoke, and it was manifesting as a pleasant blurriness in Jeremy's mind. What normally would've been a catastrophic amount of nerves at the social snafu he'd just made was dulled to a low hum of embarrassment. After all, this was just Mikey - his Mikey, who knew everything about him and who had been by his side for years. This shouldn't be weird.

Right?

Jeremy shook himself back to reality, trying to brush his worries aside. Michael was rummaging around at his desk and Jeremy watched him belatedly, wondering how this would go. He didn't really even know exactly how shotgunning worked, only that he'd read about it somewhere at some point and that it involved smoke going from one person's mouth to another. He wondered if smoke would feel different coming from Michael, and if he'd be able to breathe it in this time instead of choking on it.

Michael turned around with his pipe in one hand his lighter in the other, smiling slightly. He was much more mellowed out than Jeremy was, since he hadn't nearly suffocated while taking a hit and had instead been able to actually breathe in like you're supposed to.

Jeremy was grateful that Michael was as high as he was, because it meant he hadn't freaked out when Jeremy's suggested shotgunning in the first place. Of course, he might've agreed to it regardless - Jeremy didn't really know. There wasn't much that Michael wouldn't do for him - he could count the number of times that Michael had denied Jeremy's requests on one hand. Still, it made it feel a little bit less weird, that soft, blurry giddiness of being high.

Michael plopped down next to Jeremy on the floor, then glanced at him briefly before looking back down at his lighter. There was a trace of nervousness in his eyes that Jeremy hadn't expected, and it made his own nerves pick up again.

After a few beats of silence that was edging on awkward, Jeremy cleared his throat.

"So, uh, do we - how does this work?" he mumbled, face tinged pink.

Michael turned and blinked at him, clicking his lighter absentmindedly. He stared at Jeremy silently for a moment, brows furrowed.

"I...I don't really know," he admitted quietly, looking down.

Jeremy let out a strangled laugh. Of course he'd suggested this, and neither of them knew what was going on! He should just backtrack, he still had time to talk his way out - probably. Instead, he took a deep breath and tried to calm down.

"Are you kidding me? I thought you were the 'king of weed'," he grinned, punching Michael lightly on the arm.

Michael turned to look at him and glared slightly. "Yeah, and I've never done this before dude! Who else would I possibly have shotgunned with?" he asked wryly.

"Alright, fair enough," Jeremy said, raising his hands in surrender. He didn't want to make this any weirder than it already was, but he was too far in to pull himself out of the shotgunning shaped hole he'd dug for himself, so he pushed on.

"Just, uh - you can figure it out, man. I trust you. Let's just go for it before I lose my nerve," he added, tapping his fingers on his thigh nervously.

Michael looked at him for a moment again, then nodded. He took a breath to psych himself up, then lit his pipe. He dropped the lighter on the ground next to him and stared pensively at the pipe as it began to smoke.

Jeremy began to worry that he'd asked Michael for too much, or that he'd suddenly realized that this was too weird, but then Michael brought the pipe up to his lips. He took a low, deep drag, the sound of his inhale seeming to echo in the quiet room.

He set the pipe down and turned to Jeremy, eyes wide. Jeremy felt his palms start to sweat, his heart pounding out a heavy beat in his ears.

Michael moved towards him in slow motion, kneeling next to Jeremy's bean bag so that they were the same height. He put one hand on the beanbag next to Jeremy's thigh and one on his knee, leaning forwards, lungs full of smoke.

Jeremy didn't know if he should close his eyes or not, so he kept them open. He could barely feel the beanbag beneath him as Michael moved closer, eyes heavily lidded. The weight of Michael's hand on his knee was the only thing keeping him from bolting as Michael moved closer moment by moment. Jeremy stared at him with wide eyes, breathing fast and shallow.

He wondered why the hell he'd suggested this as he stared at his own nervous reflection in Michael's glasses. Their faces were close now, noses only inches apart, and Jeremy's eyes flicked down to Michael's lips.

God, Jeremy was so nervous. This was such a mistake, he was sure of it. He couldn't quiet his mind as he ran through every way that this was a bad idea, and every was it could go wrong.

His mind was going a mile a minute, and he didn't even register the fact that Michael had exhaled until he felt the smoke creep into his nose and up towards his eyes. Jeremy gasped, sucking in what little of the smoke remained before dissolving into a coughing fit. His eyes burned a little from looking right into the puff of smoke that had come out of Michael's mouth, and he was choking for the second time that night.

As he finally caught his breath, he realized the Michael was laughing next to him on the floor.

Jeremy glared at him with watery eyes.

"What," he rasped between coughs, "are you laughing at?"

Michael shot him a goofy grin.

"Did you even breathe in Jer? It was like I just fuckin' - I just fuckin' blew smoke in you face," Michael snorted. He fell backwards onto the ground in a fit of laughter, unable to contain it.

"Yeah, yeah," Jeremy griped, "laugh it up! It's not my fault I was distracted!"

Apparently he was a little bit more high than he thought, because that had been candid. Strangely so. Dangerously so. He could feel his face heating up again - would it ever go back to normal? - and it didn't help that now Michael was looking at him curiously.

"I - uh, I mean - it wasn't the right....there was no space to—! It was uncomfortable," Jeremy finished lamely, looking at the ground. "The beanbag," he said weakly, poking the chair he sat on. "It made the height difference weird. And, uh, I couldn't get comfortable enough. And then I was too uncomfortable to...focus...?"

Jeremy wasn't even sure if he'd just formed any coherent sentences, but Michael nodded like he understood. He stared at Jeremy for a minute as Jeremy avoided eye contact, picking at the hem of his shirt. Michael got up from the floor and took another drag from the pipe, ambling towards his desk.

Jeremy figured that the whole ordeal was over (and that he'd royally screwed up, not to mention made things very, very weird). He leaned into the beanbag chair and closed his eyes, trying to reason that it was Michael, this wasn't a big deal! It was like he'd confessed to his feelings or anything. All he'd done was ask if they could put their mouths really, really close together. But it was like, in a totally bro way, so it was fine, right? It totally didn't show that Jeremy maybe wanted to be more than Michael's bro, did it?

The thought made Jeremy's heart pound. It was annoying, the way he couldn't even control his own emotions. The traitorous beat pounded in his ears and he had to keep himself from pushing his hands over his ears to try to shut it up. He wished he could reached inside of himself and hold hos heart still, letting it slow in his grip. Maybe he could've squeezed out the feelings he was trying to ignore, too.

"Bro?"

Jeremy turned, confused, to see Michael sitting on the bed looking at him expectantly. He was holding his pipe in one hand and he blinked slowly a Jeremy like a cat, waiting for a response.

Jeremy made a vague noise of acknowledgement as Michael patted the bed next to him. Jeremy's throat tightened; it wasn't as though he'd never sat on Michael's bed before - hell, they'd shared the bed a few times when it was too cold for Jeremy to sleep on the floor, or they just happened to fall asleep there. Something about the way Michael's eyes looked, warm and heavily lidded, made this feel different.

Still, he'd waited too long, and it was edging on uncomfortable silence, so Jeremy had to make a choice.

With a strangled noise he stood up and made his way ungracefully to Michael's bed, nearly tripping over his own feet as he walked over. He plopped down unceremoniously on the bed next to Michael and sat ramrod straight, awkwardly staring at the wall, waiting for Michael to explain.

Jeremy flicked his eyes towards Michael every so often in the silence, enjoying the mussed look of his hair and clothes. Jeremy was always blown away by how Michael looked so comfortable when he was in his element, practically radiating a sense of warmth.

He also, Jeremy ceded, looked pretty hot.

After a few more beats of uncomfortable silence, Jeremy cleared his throat. He turned towards Michael with one eyebrow raised, asking the silent question of why he was there.

Michael held up his pipe and gave Jeremy a look as if to say duh!

"You said you weren't comfortable, dude. My bed? Comfy as hell," Michael explained patting his mattress affectionately.

Jeremy nearly choked on his spit. Yeah, I guess it was kinda true that he'd been uncomfortable, but it wasn't the kind of discomfort that sitting on a bed would fix. In fact, he felt even more uncomfortable now, acutely aware of the fact that a bed was kind of an intimate place. It didn't help that Michael had specifically invited him to sit there because he'd though Jeremy was uncomfortable on the beanbag, because god why did he have to be so sweet?

Michael must have seen a trace of anxiety in Jeremy's eyes as he looked into them, because he gave a sheepish grin and shrugged his shoulders slightly.

"We're already in this far, y'know?" He smiled lazily, then blinked and added, "Unless you don't wanna do it, which is fine." He averted his eyes then, running a hand nervously through his hair.

Jeremy watched him for a moment, then realized he should probably answer before Michael took his silence as a no - and the answer to his question was definitely, totally yes. He wasn't that invested in actually getting high, but it did give him a relatively safe excuse for being closer to Michael. He knew it was selfish, but he'd always wondered what he could ask from Michael. What he would do if Jeremy pushed that line.

This was a safe way to push, a small push, Jeremy reasoned. Besides, if it didn't work, no harm no foul right? It wasn't like they were kissing or anything, so it was safe.

Jeremy snapped back to reality when he realized that he'd spaced out. Michael was looking at him expectantly, a hint of nerves swimming in his dark eyes.

"Uh - no. I mean, yes, it's fine, like, we can try again? Like yeah, I want to," he stuttered, stumbling over each word like a jagged stone on his tongue. "I mean, if you want to," he added lamely, not wanting to sound too eager.

Michael smiled, his face illuminated in sudden happiness.

"Hell yeah! Let's do this," he exclaimed, pumping one fist in the air. He reached for his lighter and went to work.

"Like, right now?" he squeaked, then mentally berated himself. Of course right now, idiot! "I mean, hell yeah," he laughed weakly, watching Michael's hands deftly start the pipe.

A thin stream of smoke appeared, adding to the already heavy sweetness in the room. Michael lifted the pipe to his mouth, locking eyes with Jeremy just before it got to his mouth.

"You ready this time?" he asked, smiling.

Jeremy felt like a million tiny butterflies were beating in time with his heart just under his skin, desperate to get out. He couldn't quite identify the combination of feelings churning in his gut - there was anxiety, absolutely, and excitement, but some other things too that he couldn't quite put his finger on. He took a deep breath, trying to force his mind to quiet down.

Jeremy gave a weak smile, then said, "Yeah. Sure."

Michael grinned. "Alright, c'mere," he mumbled.

Jeremy was sitting with his legs crossed, so Michael - who was sitting on his heels - scooched closer, his thighs knocking against Jeremy's knees. He leaned forward, putting his free hand next to Jeremy to stabilize himself. He was close now, heat rolling off of his body. Jeremy could smell the weed on him, and he felt a little dizzy.

Michael gazed at Jeremy for one last confirmation, his eyes wide beneath his glasses. Jeremy made what he hoped would be recognizable as a noise of ascent, his heart suddenly pounding in his chest again.

Whatever he'd done had apparently been enough though, because Michael lifted the pipe up and took a slow drag. Then, he leaned even closer, his nose practically touching Jeremy's.

Jeremy could hardly breath, eyes stuck wide open, heart pounding. He still couldn't believe that he'd gotten himself into this. He was so not cool enough or emotionally stable enough to being this close to Michael. Everything felt fuzzy, his lungs suddenly too small to fill up his chest with air, and then Michael blew out.

Jeremy tried to breathe in the smoke, but he'd still been caught off guard. He ended up sputtering a bit, most of the smoke escaping between their open mouths in snaking tendrils, disappearing into the night.

His eyes watered a little bit, his threat burning the way it always did when he took a drag. Michael had backed away slightly, which meant Jeremy could catch his breath.

After a moment of slow, measured breathing and a few coughs, Jeremy looked up at Michael. He started slightly as he ran a hand through his hair, immediately locking eyes with Michael.

Why had he been staring? Was I really that bad at this? I mean, I know I'm not great at it, but —

Jeremy's mind was flying a hundred miles a minute, his face warm under Michael's intense look. His tongue felt too heavy in his mouth, words building up in his throat until they spilled over in an awkward "What?"

Michael blinked at the sudden noise, eyes refocusing on Jeremy.

"That...really didn't work, huh?" he asked, frowning.

"It kinda did!" Jeremy exclaimed indignantly, not wanting Michael to think he was a total dork. He tried to fight the weird weight in his chest and the warmth in his face, pressing on. "Maybe we should just...try one more time? Like, if you want to," he muttered, mentally berating his awkward phrasing.

There was a moment of silence. It stretched on like a rubber band being pulled, and Jeremy get the tightness of his anxiety grow as each second spilled into the next. It felt like the tension was pulling his entire chest taut, like everything was about to snap, when suddenly —

"Mkay, sure," Michael shrugged. There was something different on his voice though, a slight change of tone that Jeremy could just detect but couldn't quite identify. He tried not to let it scare him, instead focusing on his breathing. He wanted to do better this time, if Michael was willing to try again. If he choked for a third time, Jeremy thought he might just combust from embarrassment.

He closed his eyes and took a few breaths, trying not to think to much about it. Maybe if he pretended that this time, he wouldn't cough or choke or sputter, it would actually work. Maybe he could stop every cell in his body from going into panic mode at Michael's proximity, could inhale the smoke like it wasn't his first time.

Yeah, and maybe he'd grow wings, too.

Jeremy opened his eyes with a sigh, resigning himself to whatever was going to happen. He's already made a fool of himself, what was one more time?

That didn't help calm the flutter in his chest or the molten anxiety in his veins, though, and by the time he had finished deliberating with himself, Michael was ready with the pipe again.

He was holding it in both hands as though weighing it's worth, brows drawn together. He chewed on his lower lip, something he had a tendency of doing when he was thinking. It made Jeremy's heart do flips in his chest, and he willed it to stop.

Jeremy waited nervously for Michael to speak, tapping his fingers against his thigh. He was about to break the silence - come on Jeremy, just say something, anything, this is so awkward - when Michael finally spoke.

"What if you, uh, come over here?" He gestured to the pillows leaning against the headboard. "Then you could like - y'know, lean against that? Maybe you'd be more comfortable? So you're not like, hunched over...." His voice was slightly strained under the laziness of being high, his eyes directed downwards, then at the wall, never quite making eye contact with Jeremy.

Jeremy could feel the light pink in his face, but all he said was, "Oh! Yeah - yeah, sure, okay." He unfolded his legs and crawled closer to Michael, leaning up against the pillows and the headboard. He was right next to him now, legs awkwardly splayed out in front of him, his shoulder almost bumping into Michael's.

His heart was a hummingbird suddenly, about to flit right out of his chest and into the heavy basement air. Jeremy was sure Michael could hear it, the steady pounding that gave away how nervous Jeremy was. His pulse was racing in his ears even as he tried to calm himself down (you've been on Michael's bed dozens of times! You've shared the bed before. This isn't weird, it's totally fine, don't freak out Jeremy I swear to god!).

Jeremy stole a glance at Michael out of the corner of his eye. He was still messing with his lower lip, brows furrowed. He looked up then, like he'd been able to feel the weight of Jeremy's eyes on him. He made eye contact, and for a short moment they just stared at each other, Jeremy's heart racing in his chest.

"Is it okay if I try something different this time?" Michael asked, the smile on his face too bright. His voice was soft in the already quiet basement, and Jeremy could hear the nerves in the question, but didn't know why Michael would suddenly nervous. It made Jeremy nervous too, but he tried to swallow it back down. He trusted Michael, it wasn't like anything bad is gonna happen!

"Y-yeah, sure," he replied, the words getting caught in his throat. They came out more like a whisper of an answer than an actual answer, so he cleared his threat and tried again.

Michael had heard him the first time though, carefully lighting the pipe again as Jeremy stuttered through a second nervous response.

Michael looked up from the pipe as it began to smoke, eyes heavy with emotions that Jeremy couldn't quite place. Something i the room felt different, a shift that sent Jeremy's heart into overdrive. He dug his fingers into the blankets that he sat on, trying to keep his breathing steady.

"Ready?" Michael asked, the laughing tone he'd had all night suddenly gone.

Jeremy nodded, not trusting his voice to actually work through the ball in his stomach and the nervousness running through his brain.

Michael hesitated, seeming to consider something. Jeremy couldn't have guessed what it was - this was the third time they'd tried shotgunning. It wasn't anything new.

Michael apparently made peace with himself though, because he took a deep breath, then exhaled heavily. He closed his eyes and, after a brief moment of stillness, took and drag from the pipe. He opened his eyes then and angled his body towards Jeremy, placing one hand on the bed next to the opposite side of his hips. His forearms brushed against Jeremy's side, but he hardly had time to think about that before Michael's face appeared close to his own.

Their noses were practically touching, and Jeremy was nervous. He could hardly breathe, and everything felt like it was in slow motion. He tried to at his lungs to work properly, knowing that he'd have to breathe in momentarily. He braced himself for the puff of smoke, letting his eyelids settle into a hazy, half open stare.

Michael was right in front of him, his eyes nervous and wide, glasses askew on his face. Jeremy watched him blink, appreciating the shadows the Michael's eyelashes cast on his face and he closed his eyes. The moment seemed to stretch on into infinity.

Then, suddenly, the slow motion spell was broken, and Michael's lips were on Jeremy's.

Jeremy couldn't help but gasp at the unexpected contact. His fists curled into the blankets next to him, knuckles white. His brain was short circuiting, but he belatedly realized that he had in fact breathed in the smoke without coughing.

Michael's lips were soft and light, not moving so much as just being there. They tasted like weed and the mint chapstick that he used, a strange combination. Jeremy wasn't entirely sure that this was actually happening, and if it was, why.

Before Jeremy could wrap his find around what was happening, the sudden heat was gone. He was left feeling dizzy and giddy, confused and unbelieving.

He couldn't find any words to say, other than the shocked, muted choking noise that he didn't recognize as coming from his own mouth at first. He looked up at Michael, eyes wide, face bright red.

Michael was rubbing the back of his neck. Jeremy could see a blush on his face - something that didn't happen often, since Michael was nowhere near as pale as Jeremy. He wasn't making eye contact with Jeremy, still holding the pipe in one hand.

"It - it worked, huh?" he asked, voice strained. He looked up then, his face pink, glasses crooked. Jeremy would've laughed had he not been totally floored by the fact that he'd just kissed Michael.

Okay, Michael had kissed him, but it was basically the same thing.

"Y-yeah," Jeremy muttered, unsure what to say. He didn't know if what had just happened was really as awkward as he was feeling, or if it was just something Michael had thought would help with the shotgunning, or some combination of the two.

"Do you, uh, wanna try that again?" Michael asked, pulling Jeremy back to reality with a start.

"The shotgunning!" he added quickly, "Not like, anything weird, yknow? Just because - like, that finally worked, so if you wanna - if you wanna do it again, we can," he mumbled, words coming out in a garbled flood.

Jeremy blinked, dazed, then found himself nodding. Maybe it was selfish, but he wanted to kiss Michael again, even if it was for weed's sake. Besides, after all this, he desperately needed the high to kick in and help calm him down. He felt like his entire chest was being crushed by a semi, and his face was as hot as the surface of the sun.

Michael had taken another hit while Jeremy had been thinking, and suddenly their faces were closer together again.

Jeremy tried to prepare himself for what was coming, but he was still caught off guard when Michael's lips met his. He breathed in and closed his eyes, releasing his lips slightly so there was room to breathe and get the smoke into his lungs. He could feel it trickle through his throat, leaving a phantom taste in its wake. He couldn't care less about the weed, thought instead trying to memorize what it felt like to be doing what he'd wanted to do for years.

Michael pulled away too soon, taking a slow inhale as he sat back. Jeremy opened his eyes slowly, heart hammering in his chest.

Michael was looking at Jeremy, blinking rapidly. He looked just as confused and in awe as Jeremy was, brown eyes wide.

He looked down at the pipe in his hands, then back up at Jeremy, brows drawn together. He posed a silent question, tilting his chin and raising his eyebrow as slightly: again?

Jeremy nodded. Here was his chance, finally, Michael was right here. Jeremy was practically drunk on the idea that it was finally happening - maybe actually a little high, too since he'd had a few hits now, between his first lame attempts at taking a drag and their handful of tries at shotgunning.

Michael took another hit and leaned forwards, not wasting time before he brought their lips together again. Breathing in the smoke was second nature to Jeremy, and he didn't even have to think about it as he inhaled.

The smoke was gone, making its way into Jeremy's lungs to mellow him out even more, but he didn't want Michael to pull away yet. It was too good to pass up, and they'd probably just chill soon, now that he was feeling the effects of the weed. He let go of the blankets with one hand, bringing it up to rest on Michael's shoulder. He hoped it would be enough to keep him there, even for a moment longer.

It was. Suddenly, a chill ran down Jeremy's spine as Michael's lips began to move under his own. He felt the pressure of Michael's free hand shift from next to him on the bed to resting on his thigh. Jeremy's fingers curled around Michael's shoulder slightly, trying to prove that this was actually real, was actually happening.

He could hardly believe it, but the pressure of their lips together was the most real thing Jeremy had felt in ages. They fit together like a puzzle piece, soft and warm and light, barely moving. His head felt fuzzy, but from the weed or the fact that he was kissing his best friend, he couldn't say.

He realized a few moments later that his lungs were starting to ache, since they'd been kissing for much longer than the last time. He pulled back reluctantly, taking in a long gulp of air. He could feel his face was bright red, and he snatched his hand off of Michael's shoulder and dug it back into the blankets.

The sound of their breathing seemed to reverberate in the quiet basement. Jeremy didn't know what to do now - should he act like nothing was weird about that? Like nothing had happened?

Luckily, he didn't have to choose, because Michael let out a soft laugh.

"Holy shit," he mumbled, blinking.

Jeremy laughed nervously in reply, not sure if that was a good reaction or not. Michael looked slightly dazed, exactly how Jeremy felt. There was another stretch of silence, both of them trying to catch their breath. Jeremy was finally feeling the effects of the weed, and thankfully his heart no longer felt like it was going to explode. He did still want to kiss Michael again, though, but there was no way he was going to ask to.

Jeremy toyed around with the idea of asking, or making a joke out of it, or just kinda going for it again, but each option felt more awkward than the last. He couldn't seem to string words together in the right way, even in his mind. The combination of his usual awkwardness, weed, and the aftermath of kissing Michael had rendered him all but incapable of forming coherent sentences.

He sighed. He should just be grateful for the kisses he'd gotten, he figured, instead of being so selfish.

Because that was what it was - selfish. He knew that it was, even in his hazy mind. Kissing Michael was circumstantial, a result of the perfect combination of happenstance and the influence of being high. Michael wasn't stoned out of his mind, but he was definitely acting freer than usual.

Jeremy knew that was why Michael was kissing him - in his brain, it probably was just the next logical step when their attempts at shotgunning failed. It wasn't because of some grand secret romance, and Jeremy knew that. He just couldn't find it in himself to care, not when he was finally getting to experience what he thought he'd never have.

He sighed, guilt prickling up his spine. He felt doubly selfish, because he'd suggested shotgunning in the first place to be close to Michael. He'd never actually thought it would escalate to this, but somehow it had, and Jeremy couldn't say that he was sorry for it. He wanted to kiss Michael again, but he couldn't read the mood anymore; it had gone from slightly awkward to stiflingly so, and Jeremy was floundering.

He picked at the hem of his cardigan, hoping Michael would say something to break the silence. It stretched on, a gaping chasm that Jeremy didn't know how to cross.

After a bit of internal arguing, he lifted his eyes and looked at Michael. He was deep in thought, worrying his lip slightly. Jeremy couldn't read the look in his eyes, but he felt far away.

Jeremy took in his appearance. Even though it felt like everything had changed, he was still just the same Michael. He had the same worn hoodie on, the same smudged pair of glasses, the same messy hair. Jeremy loved all of it. He felt grounded by the fact that things really weren't all that different. Maybe they could just pretend this hadn't happened at all.

The thought gave Jeremy a pang, but he tried to ignore it. He didn't actually want to go back to when kissing Michael was only something he thought about, but he'd rather do that than lose Michael all together. He settled for studying Michael's features and trying to tie them down securely in his mind, filing each detail away with the memory of the feeling of his lips.

Michael's eyes suddenly cleared and snapped towards Jeremy, making abrupt eye contact. They looked silently at each other, something unnameable between them. Jeremy wanted to say something, but he couldn't find the words. They just wouldn't come out.

Luckily, Michael found the words for him.

"Do - do, uh," Michael muttered, his voice barely audible, even in the silence. He cleared his threat and tried again, blinking rapidly. "Do you wanna, like....try that again? Since it seemed like it worked, maybe, unless you don't want to?"

Jeremy didn't know exactly what to say. Michael seemed nervous, stuttering the way Jeremy was used to doing. He seemed flighty, tapping out a rhythm with his fingers on his bed, his eyes flicking back and forth.

Just as Jeremy was gonna respond with something, anything, Michael started rambling again.

"Which is fine - actually yeah, it's cool, you're probably good! Yeah, okay, that's fine, we can watch a documentary or something if you want?" His voice was slightly higher pitched than usual, almost strangled sounding. "We can look on Netflix, and - god, it's really warm down here - can you pass me those chips?" he finished lamely, voice cracking on the last phrase.

Jeremy blinked slowly, trying to take it all in. Did Michael actually want to do that again? Was it possible? It sort of seemed like he did, but maybe Jeremy was just being too hopeful. Too selfish.

He decided to test the waters, his own voice seeming to cling to the back of his throat. After a moment of strangled silence, Jeremy finally managed to squeak out, "Yeah."

Michael blinked, then furrowed his brow.

"Yeah?" he echoed, staring at Jeremy.

Jeremy blushed under his gaze, but stood firm.

"Yeah. We can, like, do that again. Or not!" he backpedaled, suddenly feeling too vulnerable. He didn't wanna misinterpret what was going on and ruin everything, but he also didn't wanna not try, because something felt different.

Michael looked conflicted, eyes swirling with a million emotions that Jeremy couldn't even begin to describe. They matched the unbearable, crushing feeling in his own chest, that was both hopeful and terrified all at once.

Slowly, carefully, Michael shifted towards Jeremy. His face was closer now, his eyes still holding that intense gaze with Jeremy's.

Jeremy's heart was fluttering profusely. He felt like it was about to explode out of his chest, like a bird that refused to be caged any longer, or an ocean wave threatening to crash over the break wall. He wanted to break eye contact with Michael, but he was afraid that if he looked away, this wouldn't still be there when he looked back.

He tried to calm his breathing, but Michael was close now, his arm pressed against Jeremy's thigh from where he pressed his hand into the bed. The feeling was electric, like static running through his veins and his heart and his entire being.

The waves of emotion in his chest grew, each one larger than the last, that frantic beating against the shore occurring in time with his heartbeat.

Michael's face was only a few inches away when he paused. Jeremy could feel the pull in the small space between him, and he wanted nothing more than to close it; wanted Michael to keep moving closer, to kiss him again, to put his hands in Jeremy's hair and and on waist and anywhere, everywhere.

But Michael had stopped, his eyes nearly closed. Jeremy could feel Michael's breath on his cheeks, could see each eyelash through Michael's smudged glasses. He was practically drowning under the ebb and flow of emotions in his chest, the crashing symphony of feelings that he'd ignored for so long, that he wasn't ready to deal with beating in time with his heart. He could feel them bubbling up his throat, threatening to spill out in words he wasn't prepared to say, so he tried to swallow them back down. He didn't want to scare Michael away from whatever it was that was happening between them, even if it might be selfish —

"Jeremy?" Michael breathed, opening his eyes slightly. The sound of his name made goosebumps appear on Jeremy's skin, and the ghost of Michael's breath tickled his cheek.

"Yes?" Jeremy whispered back, searching Michael's heavily lidded eyes for any sense of what he was thinking.

Michael paused, looking down. He took a deep breath, which made Jeremy realize that Michael hadn't taken a hit at all.

Did that mean something? Was it intentional? Jeremy almost didn't want to ask, but he didn't want to fool himself into thinking this was something it wasn't, either. He just wanted to close the gap between him and Michael - no. He needed to say it, to make sure, even if it meant the whole fantasy would fall apart.

"Don't you - don't you need to take a hit?" Jeremy whispered, his voice sticking in his throat. He hated himself for even asking, because he knew it would lead Michael to pull away, but he had to. Even he could only be so selfish, and he didn't want to pretend that this was anything that it wasn't.

He could tell Michael had heard him, because his breath caught for a moment and he tensed slightly, fingers curling up.

The entire world seemed to pause for a breath as he waited for Michael to answer or to move away or to do something, everything hanging in some strange and delicate balance. The air felt charged with the idea of something about to be, like the moment right before lightning strikes. Jeremy could practically feel the electrical current in the air, holding him in place with bated breath.

And then, throwing away all pretenses of shotgunning, Michael closed the gap and brought his lips crashing against Jeremy's.

Jeremy felt a shock run through him - he hadn't expected this at all, was this real? He didn't want to get his hopes up, but there was no denying the weight of Michael's hand on his thigh or the pressure of Michael's lips as they moved against his own. His heart was clawing its way up his throat, his mind racing. He hardly even registered the fact that Michael's lips were moving fervently on his own until holy shit Michael is kissing me, for real kissing me, holy shit holy shit holy shit!

His racing mind be damned, Jeremy switched off the part of his brain made of questions and endless loops of doubt. Instead, he opted instead for putting his hand back on Michael's shoulder, settling the other on Michael's knee. He could barely process what was happening, but he tried to ease into the kiss instead of panicking.

He had pretty much no idea what to do, but that was alright. As far as he knew, neither did Michael. Still, he'd never felt anything as perfect as their lips moving in sync, even if their teeth smashed together a few times. Even if Michael's glasses were poking into his face. Jeremy would take it.

Michael moved his free hand up to rest on Jeremy's shoulder, his fingers settling in the soft hit at the nape of Jeremy's neck. Jeremy almost melted at the touch - he'd never actually thought he'd be getting to touch Michael like this, not really, but here he was.

And god, it was perfect.

As they'd been kissing, Jeremy had somehow managed to move closer to Michael, his knees knocking into Michael's. He twisted his legs underneath him, pulling back from Michael for a moment to take a breath before scooting closer and pressing their lips together again. He put one hand on Michael's chest, hand curled up on the strings of his hoodie. The other came to rest on his shoulder, loosely gripping the fabric of his hoodie that bunched up there.

If Jeremy had thought he could feel the electricity before, it was nothing compared to what he was feeling now. He felt like his every atom was on fire, like he couldn't possibly get close enough to Michael. He tasted vaguely like weed and the Doctor Pepper he'd been drinking before they started smoking, and it probably should've tasted gross, but Jeremy didn't mind. It was Michael, so it was fine. It was more than fine - it was perfect.

Suddenly, Jeremy became aware of the brining in his lungs. They'd been kissing for too long, and he needed air, but he didn't want to pull away. If he did, then it could all fall apart. He pushed through for a few more moments, savoring the feeling of Michael's lips on his, just in case it would all disappear as soon as he pulled away.

When he didn't think he could take any more, he pulled away, sitting back on his ankles. He drank in the air gratefully, his lips tingling and cold without Michael's against them.

It suddenly hit him what had just happened, and he felt a bright blush flood his features. He pulled his hands off of Michael as if he'd been burned, digging them into the blanket on either side of him. Michael's hands drifted away from him as well, one going to run through his hair, the other making it's way into the pocket of his hoodie.

Jeremy couldn't make eye contact as he tried to steady his breathing, too embarrassed to even consider saying anything. He could barely fathom what had just happened.

He'd really, truly, and literally just made out with his best friend of twelve years. Said best friend had threaded his fingers in Jeremy's hair and allowed Jeremy to move so that he was practically in his lap, to put his hands on his chest and his shoulders and his thighs. They'd kissed. They'd kissed, and then pulled apart for a minuscule breath, and then immediately started kissing again.

Holy shit.

As he struggled to come to terms with what had just occurred, he also became increasingly aware of the fact that he now had to actually, like, deal with what had happened. As in, actually say something to Michael. Or at least, y'know, look at him.

Instead, Jeremy let the silence stretch on, pretending that he still needed more air. The sound of their breathing was cacophonous in the silent aftermath of what had happened, each breath widening the awkward gap, making it more and more difficult to breach.

Jeremy wanted to say something, but he didn't know what. He had absolutely no clue what he was supposed to say - confess to his feeling? Or should he assume Michael just felt the same way? No, that wasn't safe, he would need to ask, but did he have to ask right now? Could he wait? Maybe he shou—

"Jer?" Michael squeaked, voice cracking.

Jeremy looked up, losing his train of thought. Michael looked nervous, but there was a grin on his face, too, something almost hopeful. Jeremy tried not to stare at Michael's lips, instead forcing himself to make eye contact.

"Yeah?" he asked, although in reality if came out as more of a high pitched choking sound.

"That, like...that wasn't about the - uh, the weed right? Like, we just totally kissed and it wasn't just the smoking thing, right?"

Michael scratched the back of his neck nervously, fingers of the other hand bouncing, and Jeremy felt the absurd urge to laugh.

"I mean - do you, uh, want it to not be just not because - wait, fuck," Jeremy fumbled, trying to get the words out. "Do you want it to be not just the weed?" He finally managed to mumble, face burning.

"Yeah," Michael breathed. "Yeah, I do."

"Me too," Jeremy said, sudden warmth filling his chest.

And then he did laugh, and suddenly Michael was laughing too, because what else was there to do when you and your best friend just confessed that you wanted to be more than just best friends? Jeremy sure as hell didn't know. There wasn't exactly a manual for the situation, as far as he was aware.

After a few minutes of laughter, both boys quieted down again. The basement filled again with relative silence, but this time it was brimming with the feeling of something new, like they were in wholly uncharted territory as opposed to the tense energy of something waiting to begin that had filled it before, or the embarrassed waves that had flooded it after. It was almost comfortable, like they had teetered over some edge that couldn't be returned to. Jeremy found that he was okay with that, especially when he recalled the exact feeling of Michael's lips on his.

"So," Michael drawled, dragging out the word. "Wanna, like, do that again?" he offered awkwardly, giving Jeremy a hopeful smile.

"Absolutely," he said, without missing a beat.

Jeremy knew that they'd have to talk more eventually about what this meant, what they were together, but he didn't want to think about that right now. He'd wanted this for so long, and now not only did it feel real, but it felt really possible. Michael wanted to kiss him again, and that was more than enough for Jeremy. All the serious stuff - the talking and labeling and figuring stuff out - that could wait.

Right now, he didn't wanna do anything else except make up for all the lost time he'd spent thinking he wouldn't ever get to kiss Michael.

So he leaned forward, put one hand on Michael's shoulder, and closed the gap, relishing in the way Michael's hand instinctively moved to curl itself into the hair at the nape of his neck, the way their mouths met like a perfect set of puzzle pieces melting together.

They had a lot of catching up to do.

**Author's Note:**

> this has taken me FOREVER to write l m a o ! thanks ro for basically making this fic happen. as a late disclaimer i have never smoked weed so. accept some creative liberties, yeah? 
> 
> alright that's all, catch me on tumblr at choking-onholywater! until next time, thanks for reading! comments are much appreciated :')


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